


the aftermath of rebirth

by sunkelles



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Poetry, kind of?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-25 00:28:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20715089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunkelles/pseuds/sunkelles
Summary: A woman wronged. That’s how all the stories start.or: the birth of Lady Stoneheart





	the aftermath of rebirth

**Author's Note:**

> this little thing's the result, mainly, of me accidentally making everything about fandoms. i've been reading a book lately called "we were meant to be a gentle people" by dao strom, and there's this really cool passage about a north vietnamese film that ends with a woman whose husband was killed starting a rampage with baby and gun in tow, and strom's concept of mother as the "the symbol that radiates this ethos of vengeance most passionately" and combined with some really cool stuff in there about the vietnamese concept of "home waters" as opposed to homeland, people being made of "many rivers", and the enola gay, i got an idea for some lady stoneheart ramblings. 
> 
> the title is taken from the song "cataclysm" off that album, which is a really great song i highly recommend (even though i'm taking this poor line wiiiillldddllyyy out of context) 
> 
> here's a link to the exact passage i'm referring to if you'd like to check it out! i would definitely recommend both the book and the companion album "east/west" if anyone is interested <3
> 
> https://disregardcanon.tumblr.com/post/187847384593/that-the-wronged-motherwife-may-demand

A woman wronged. That’s how all the stories start. Trampled, yet graceful. She bears her suffering with a smile, carrying the weight of society and its wrongs on her back- the emotional core of the family. A wife, mother, pulled from her motherwaters to a land, far far away. Forging a new home, forming new loves. 

Forcing herself to keep going for a husband- for children. Far from the rivers that birthed her-

For family- for legacy. 

But that husband can die. The children can too. A legacy destroyed in a single move. A wife bereaved, made a widow. A reverse orphan- mother without children, left helpless to watch her suffering come to a close. 

A woman wronged. A woman dead. That’s how all stories start, isn’t it? Plunged into the waters of her birth- motherwaters- fomenting her rage at the bottom of the river. Skin wrinkling like in a bath- shriveling up like the last bits of her heart that she tried to cling to before the world ripped it all away from her. Corpse floating down the river, current pulling at her rage- 

A woman dead. A woman rotting. A woman risen. Isn’t that how all the stories start? A woman- back where she started, clawing at some semblance of power in a world that ripped everything she loved away from her. 

Mother of rage, mother of pain, mother of destruction- rebirthed at the bottom of that river. Life-bringer should be life-ender when all the lives she’s brought have ended, shouldn’t she? Shouldn’t she change then? It’s only circular. Seasonal. 

A woman wronged. A woman fighting back- gun or knife or noose on her hip, vengeance radiating. A throat ripped- a voice broken- a child taken. Demeter letting the world starve to get Persephone back, Enola Gay dropping down death on hundreds of thousands for the crime of existing in the margins of a war. Freys upon Freys- dead upon dead- 

An orphan-mother, destroyed, taking what she can from the world that took everything from her.


End file.
